


the only reason you speak is to state that you're mine

by tragickenobi



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Canon Compliant, Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Porn With Plot, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-10 18:34:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8928466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tragickenobi/pseuds/tragickenobi
Summary: a fill for the kink meme that got a little more plot than it probably should: "chirrut is trans and baze goes down on him"





	

**Author's Note:**

> link to prompt: http://rogueonekink.dreamwidth.org/1084.html?thread=27452#cmt27452
> 
> honestly.. i had to fill this because i love my men and lowkey just wanted to wait for someone to say chirrut is trans first before i went to town with adopting the idea. it's also intensely plot heavy because i didn't want this to come across as 'chirrut is only trans because i wanted it for the ~kink~' nah man he's trans and here's five pages of background about these gay dudes loving each other, hopefully op of the prompt doesn't mind this being more plot than porn.
> 
> title from my heart goes bum bum bum by flatsound

 

 

Even before the man was blind, Baze had constantly been careful with Chirrut.

They'd gone through a multitude of readjustment periods and all of them ended with Baze being doubly as protective as before, as if they hadn't been inseparable before. First they'd kissed, and if that hadn't been enough Chirrut’s eyes had all but glowed with happiness afterwards and that had sealed Baze’s fate pretty permanently. As if they weren't already the closest of the two temple guardians previously, both vying for the positions to be the guards of the rooms of kyber crystals, leading them to hours of time alone together. The moment it became more was when Baze’s attachment solidified.

Things changed when Chirrut came out to him, but not really at the same time. At most, it was Baze’s protectiveness that doubled in strength at hearing even the slightest vulnerability audible in his voice. The change that came was positive, because Baze finally had a reason (that Chirrut would except) to gather the other guardians and monks of the temple so they could help him in giving Chirrut what he’d wanted. He’d never been more content in seeing someone cry with happiness. And Chirrut had been happy before, but once he had the funds and support system of an entire temple behind him as he went through all the individual procedures he wanted, he practically walked on air all the time.

Things changed again when the war ended with the upheaval of the galaxy, several years later, and it’s obvious what direction the change took them all in. For as attuned to the Force as everyone in the temple was, Baze had only felt a small darker change as he slept, but slept through the night nonetheless. It wasn’t until daybreak that he woke to find Chirrut missing from their quarters. According to another one of the guardians, he’d come down to the room of kybers and had been deep in prayer all night, murmuring under his breath without break. Baze found him there sure enough, and upon stirring him, had only received a flat “they’re all gone” in response. It had only been downhill from there, and it gave the Force a lot to answer in Baze’s eyes.

To begin with, allowing Chirrut to feel the death of so many, to throw such a weight onto a man barely breaking into his late twenties. Then it had a lot of answering to do for what it allowed to happen to the temple; within the first month of Imperial rule, Stormtroopers had surrounded the city, giving them only hours to leave the premises of the temple with the crystals intact. Some stayed, but many left, but all were in a rush to flee once the Empire began flushing them out with gas. Baze had had to run through the place to find Chirrut (who’d been doing a fair job of knocking out any trooper that came near the kybers), and gotten a mask on him too late to keep him from being affected by the gas. While most who inhaled it had died, Chirrut had been lucky. In a very loose definition of the term; it took him two days to go completely blind.

Despite Baze finding no comfort in imagining this is all the will of the Force, it’s what gets Chirrut through their migration across the moon. They set up a small home in the side of a mountain, about a mile outside of a town just barely smaller than Jedha City had been. Baze abandons the idea of serving the Force and instead salvages some armor and weapons and becomes the hitman for hire that everyone else knows him as in this part of the moon. He does whatever he can to have enough money to afford food, supplies for their home, and all the medicine Chirrut needs to remain healthy and safe in his own body. Chirrut comes to terms with their situation within the first month.

After that, it’s a matter of scheduling Baze’s jobs and their third great readjustment within the span of just a few months. He fashions the man’s first staff, sticks a light right on the top and uses it a few times himself to test it’s functionality. He walks with Chirrut around the house a thousand times to familiarize him with it, up and down the path to the city another thousand. Baze sets his world to revolve around Chirrut and making sure he’s as well-equipped as he can be made.

Several months later finds Baze retraining Chirrut to fight on the cliffside outside their house. It's slow goings, but Chirrut can still kick his ass on good days. It’s a constant work, mixing up the weight of his footsteps, whether or not he uses a weapon, if he uses tricks to simulate more than one opponent. Chirrut’s grown better with each trial, a slow step back into being ready to return to Jedha City.

After setting up, Baze steps in closer near Chirrut, watching as his eyes flick towards every small sound, each skid of rocks or shift of clothing. He's already becoming more sensitive with his hearing, catching onto sounds long before Baze ever does.

Baze waits a fraction of a second before spinning on his heel, dirt crackling under his shoes, and charging the other man. It’s like clockwork, then; Chirrut strikes with the staff first, and Baze blocks even though any attacker won't anticipate a blind man to fight back, that'd be the end right there. The point is to run through any and every scenario that could ever befall them. Chirrut continues to strike, slowly moving to a crouch position before kicking out at Baze’s thigh, only to spare him injury that would come with hitting his knee. They connect several more times as they spar, mostly exchanging hits with the staff and Baze changing his directions on a dime in an effort to mix it up. It lasts until Chirrut uses the side of his robe to stir up dirt in Baze’s eyes, and a hard thwack to the back of his legs to land him on the ground like a sack of rocks and a grunt.

Chirrut finds his chest with his staff and taps it lightly with a grin. “Win?”

Baze shakes his head. “Won five minutes ago.”

He pushes himself up onto his feet and rests his hand against Chirrut’s shoulder, using the other to wipe away the dust that had gathered on them both. “Didn't hurt you?” Chirrut asks once they've settled into the increasingly relaxing mood, leaning slightly on the staff. Baze quietly grunts in response before he flips over Chirrut’s staff back the right direction for him. “We should start going into town for real practice, maybe just a soldier at a time.”

Briefly forgetting the lack of vision, Baze shoots an anxious look down at the man before shaking his head. “Not happening. Not yet.”

The staff whacks lightly against the backs of his heels on response before Chirrut passes him, not waiting before walking towards the entrance. “Do I need you beat you again, then?”

Baze rolls his eyes and takes a few longer strides to be back at Chirrut’s side again. If he has it his way, they'll never return to Jedha City, because he knows how swamped with Imperials it is, how immediately they'll lose any advantage they've built up over time. But the man is persistent, so all he can do is hope to delay the inevitable for as long as he can. “We’ll wait longer. I’ll know when we can fight without putting ourselves in danger.”

“We are more than prepared, and the Force will aide and protect us.”

It's impossible to withhold a scoff. “Because the Force has done a damn thing for us.”

“It brought us together.”

“It has done _a_ thing for us.” Baze ushers Chirrut inside, sliding the wood plank over the entryway that he has yet to fashion into a door. “And it's still done a lot of other things I'm awaiting apology for.”

In front of him, Chirrut chuckles under his breath, setting his staff aside and reaching out to cup Baze’s cheek with a fond squeeze. “The Force gives as much as it takes; we’ll return to the city and retake the temple. We've been given our time to rebuild.”

Part of Baze can't help but wonder how Chirrut remains so positive, especially in contrast to how silent and stoic he'd been just weeks previous after the Empire’s abrupt rise to power. The rest of him knows to expect such painfully constant optimism and figures it's himself who's yet to bounce back to his previous persona, if he ever well. Making another quiet noise, he steps in to press a kiss to Chirrut’s temple before stepping away again to start up a fire. Jedha City was never hot enough to shed a jacket in the dead of summer, winter was quick coming, and they were on the other end of the moon.

Behind him, Chirrut sits in the center of the room with his legs folded and eyes shut, praying under his breath. He does so every time they finish sparring, every meal and every night before they sleep; Baze hasn't since they'd fled the city. He still can't help a small smile at the die-hard habit, waiting until the fire lights up the room before he steps back and sits behind Chirrut, wrapping both arms around his waist and chin resting on his shoulder. Their bed that had cost them half their credits sits in the corner, because Chirrut just seems to like the floor better.

He waits quietly until Chirrut has stopped praying and they're both simply kneeling there to start running his hands up and down along the man’s sides. “Any pains?”

Chirrut shakes his head minutely, shifting back so he's more pressed against Baze’s chest. His blindness had been followed with hours of headaches and side effects of the gas, stopping and starting again seemingly at random intervals, and not an hour goes by that Baze isn't concerned over them. “It's better. Less frequent.”

Baze nods closely enough so Chirrut can feel it. His hands settle just above Chirrut’s hips, comfortably holding him close as he tries to bring his thoughts away from the neverending worry that he feels simply being in his presence, always worrying about the possible return to the city or Chirrut’s condition worsening, even where their next meal comes from, and it’s just too tiring. So instead, Baze focuses himself on making small circles with the pads of his fingers along Chirrut’s hips, still prominent despite not being near too-thin. He keeps his chin rested against the man’s chin and watches his chest rise and fall slowly with each press. His circles move from tight and small to as broad as they can be and then back again. As slow and careful as he can make them.

After several minutes, Baze looks up at Chirrut’s face, the most relaxed he’s seen him in a long time. There’s a faint smile at his lips, head tilted slightly in Baze’s direction in the way he’d been resting it. Baze can’t help a small smile of his own, carefully bringing his hands around to the front of Chirrut’s stomach, beginning to nuzzle kisses into the crook of his neck. Chirrut jumps at the sudden sensation before his smile grows, quietly chuckling as he moves his hands from his knees to cup over Baze’s.

They’ve done plenty of gentle cuddling and kissing like this in the past weeks, mostly hidden under the bedsheets and hurried before Baze starts their day. He misses him, though, _wants_ him in a way they haven't gotten around to since they'd fled the temple. Without much in way of second thought, Baze continues to leave firm kisses up the side of Chirrut’s neck up to his jaw, stopping to lightly nip at his earlobe, reveling in the small shudder he gets in response.

“You’ve changed moods quickly,” Chirrut comments quietly, still grinning, but Baze can feel the quicker heartbeat coming from the man indicating his own excitement.

Baze makes a noise of agreement and pulls Chirrut in impossibly closer, a little faster in laying kisses over his skin. Chirrut’s hand reaches back until he finds the side of Baze’s face, pushing further back until he’s softly gripping at the roots of his hair. It’s all he needs to do to get Baze moving faster, fingers curling against Chirrut’s stomach before quickly moving one hand and cupping his jaw, turning his face just enough that he can catch his mouth in a kiss.

As much as it’s soft it’s just as much hungry, and Baze finds himself pushing every ounce of passion and emotion into the kiss. Weeks of fears and anxieties finally expelled into something Baze finds useful. Even though Chirrut can no longer see, he responds like clockwork, keeping his grip firm in the man’s hair and pressing their foreheads together as he sucks roughly at Baze’s lip. Hands move once they’re only barely pulled away for breath and within seconds Baze has Chirrut halfway on the floor, knee stuck in between them, robes untucked so he can touch over the startlingly soft skin. Chirrut is laughing quietly into Baze’s mouth, then a little louder once the man starts leaving his kisses back down his neck. Even Baze starts smiling a little at the sound of it, bumping Chirrut’s jaw with his nose before wearing the skin between his teeth until their laughs shift into groans.

Without breaking too far away, Baze tugs down the sleeve of Chirrut’s robe and continues to mark him up along his shoulder, tightening his grip on his hips simultaneous with Chirrut gripping at his neck and hair. It's somewhere perfectly between pent-up need and their typical gentle rhythm. The back of his mind pipes up with wondering how it is for Chirrut now that he's blind, if he's missing most of the experience, but he's able to file the thought away for later in favor of biting another hickey into Chirrut’s chest.

Chirrut starts to chuckle again when Baze’s impatience grows and he works at getting the man’s pants off his legs. He looks so much smaller in comparison it's almost easy to forget how easily he can knock Baze off his feet at any given moment if he wanted to. Still without much effort, he tugs Chirrut in closer and starts kissing back up his neck along the sensitive spots he's had memorized forever now.

After kissing properly again for several pleasantly languid moments, Chirrut briefly runs his hands over Baze’s face, catching just enough of a mental picture before beginning to undo the string that holds the front of his shirt together. “We’re on the floor for this?”

Baze takes a second of thought to remember that they've been on the ground for however long now and his knees are going to hate him later for that, but he's not one to miss the teasing hint in Chirrut’s voice. In lieu of answering, he places one hand underneath the small of Chirrut’s back and the other between his shoulder blades, scooping him up as if weighing nothing. Chirrut makes a noise of surprise that changes into another laugh, squeezing Baze’s shoulder before deftly wrapping his legs just above the man’s waist.

He debates the bed, but his legs keep walking him until Chirrut’s back hits the wall, smiling at the slight jump he gets out of him. Neither of them get much more than a smile before they're kissing again, Baze’s hands cupping the backs of Chirrut’s thighs, warm compared to his own hands.

Right as Chirrut starts to squirm against him- finally, a hair of impatience- Baze quickly hoists Chirrut up higher, hooking the man’s legs around his shoulders before properly supporting the backs of his thighs again. He glances up briefly to gauge Chirrut’s expression, which is initial surprise at the change in direction, but after he figures out where Baze’s head is and buries a hand in his hair and another holds himself up against the wall, he's smiling again breathlessly.

Ideally, Baze would be taking his sweet time with every little thing until the end, like he always enjoys doing every time he gets his mouth on the man. Here though, he leans in enough to run his tongue over Chirrut once, hears the soft hitch of breath and legs close more around him, and Baze is absolutely not waiting. He grips the small of Chirrut’s back and tugs him closer so that part of him isn't even against the wall anymore. Baze can barely breathe with the positioning but _kriff_ if this isn't the way he'd most like to go, face buried against Chirrut and make him finally lose that all-knowing persona he puts off. Chirrut might be saying things, but it's either complete gibberish or Baze just doesn't have the mentality to be listening to anything.

The nice thing is he's done this so many times he knows what to do depending on the reaction he wants. He slows down a little and finally gives some thought to it, flattening his tongue and applying as much pressure to the man’s clit as he can, grinning at the gasp he gets from Chirrut. He can hear his other hand scratching at the wall for some kind of grip, doubling whenever Baze repeats the motion faster. They both know he's teasing with it now, re-exploring every motion, both hands fisted up in Chirrut’s undershirt he'd never bothered to get off.

And Chirrut, for the constant picture of serenity that he always is, is coming apart in Baze’s hands just like every time before. His back is mostly bowed off the wall, head really the only thing still there besides his hand still looking for purchase while his other hand has been tugging at Baze’s hair the entire time. He alternates between murmuring nothings that Baze can't understand, and moans and gasps that Baze can't get enough of. Chirrut cants his hips forward slightly only for Baze to move one of his hands to grip the man’s hip, holding him against the wall and taking a step in closer to make sure the pressure doesn't relent despite the movement.

Finally, Baze moves his other hand and holds Chirrut up with both hands on his hips, focusing more on the pressure of each tongue swipe rather than doing anything fancy with it. Chirrut’s thighs had started shaking minutes ago but now it's even more noticeable, squeezing Baze’s head every time he scrapes his teeth along the sensitive inner thigh. Baze also isn't sure when the man started gasping his name, but it's one hell of a motivator to keep him going when it feels like his jaw will be sore for a week after this.

The faster he moves his tongue over the man, sharp back and forth movements, the steadily louder Chirrut gets in turn. With Baze’s determination, he only has to keep up the same intense pace for barely a minute before Chirrut goes abruptly tense and then lax in Baze’s arms, mouth agape with soft noises. It's only then that Baze eases up a little, taking in deeper breaths as he peppers kisses along Chirrut’s hips, bringing his hands back down to hold him up by the thighs. Chirrut smiles again, broken up by occasional gasps of sensitivity whenever Baze swipes his tongue back over him, cleaning him up before pulling him in to his arms.

Chirrut starts to chuckle again when Baze carries him over and sits him down on their bed, eyes following the man as he moves until Baze finally gets onto the bed as well, exhaling heavily before they start kissing again slowly. They’ll have to gather what clothes they’d managed to get off before nightfall and the cold really starts to kick in, but bed seems warmest for both of them. Baze quietly catches his breath while Chirrut finally gets his chance at him, one hand mapping out the expanse of Baze’s neck and shoulder and his mouth not far behind, kissing and nipping seemingly at random. Once his panting has minimized, Baze watches his partner carefully, keeping one hand on the bed while the other cups the back of the man’s neck to have him close.

Eventually Chirrut grants some mercy and just shoves aside Baze’s pants to get a grip on his dick, stroking fast as his other hand finds Baze’s cheek again in order to continue the kiss. Baze groans quietly but manages to keep from moving too intensely again, rocking his hips forward into Chirrut’s hand and muffling himself into the man’s mouth. He barely lasts another minute, grip briefly tightening in Chirrut’s hair and exhaling heavily. Chirrut smiles against his mouth and rests their foreheads together, bumping their noses together fondly and making them both laugh quietly a moment later. Baze shivers when Chirrut pulls his hand away, opening his eyes again to watch the man wipe away the come on his hand (they needed new sheets anyway), before wrapping both arms around Baze and kissing up his jaw softly.

Once the fuzziness of his orgasm has finally faded, Baze gathers Chirrut up in his arms and hugs him tightly, resting his head against the man’s shoulder. All he can think about is how warm Chirrut is and how thankful he is that he still has him. If he’d just been a little later in getting him from the temple, Chirrut would’ve died without a doubt. Baze closes his eyes tighter and tries to think about anything else, heart still beating fast from both their actions and from how fast his thoughts of worry come back to him.

One of Chirrut’s hands move through Baze’s hair carefully, tucking most of it behind his ears before pulling back a little from the hug, pressing their foreheads together. “The Force is with us. We only need to concern ourselves with making it to our future together. We’re okay.”

Baze opens an eye to look at Chirrut’s face, smiling sadly a delayed second later. If the Force had ever been on their side, it continues to only in giving Chirrut just enough knowledge to know when Baze is brooding. He makes a noise of acknowledgement and kisses the man once softly before wrapping their blankets around them, laying them both down to cuddle Chirrut in a bear hug.  
  
Before they’re both asleep in their post-orgasmic haze, Baze feels Chirrut tracing words along his chest. _I love you_. A sap if Baze had ever seen one.

 

**Author's Note:**

> fun fact it took me halfway through writing this to realize jedha was a) a moon not a planet and b) not just one city
> 
> tumblr is still imwvemalbus so send me prompts or just headcanons!!! comments and kudos definitely appreciated too


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